Waking
by ScienceGeek
Summary: An accident at a crime scene wakes Grissom up. [GS]


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**A/N: **_This is a response to an improv challenge on the Unbound board. First and last lines provided. I wrote this story in two spurts, Monday afternoon before I had to catch a plane to Vegas, and this morning. I hope it works._

_As always, I own no part of CSI, sadly._

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**Sitting in the emergency room lobby, Sara could sense a distinct shift in her relationship with her supervisor. **It wasn't just that he shooed everyone else away from her, it was how he did it. Nick had all but raced back to the lab after Gil's rebuff, his harsh words to the younger man still ringing in Sara's ears. And Grissom's glare, as Brass moved across the tile floor toward them, would have cowed a lesser man. Or, a man who hadn't long been friends with Gil Grissom. "Later, Jim."

To Brass' credit, and Sara's private amusement, the Homicide Captain didn't back down. "Relax, Gil. I just need to ask Sara a few questions about what happened."

Sara's eyes widened as she felt Grissom's hand cover her good one, "I said later, Jim. She hasn't even seen the doctor yet." His voice, low and deep was what, ultimately, had Brass deciding to back away.

"Grissom…" Sara glanced at his hand, still enclosing hers, his thumb making lazy circles on the back of her wrist. "It's all right. I don't mind answering Brass' questions."

"You're hurt, Sara."

She tried to shrug it off, but winced in pain as she lifted her right shoulder. "It's nothing…just a scratch." She winced again at the tremor that ran through her voice as she tried to deny the extent of her injuries.

For a long moment, he didn't answer her. When he did, his tone was mild, but his eyes seemed so intense as he met her gaze. "You're still bleeding Sara." He was quiet for another moment, his eyes going to the bandage on her arm. His voice dropped as he went on, "He…he could have hit an artery…"

"But he didn't, Grissom." Sara found her own voice dropping to a whisper, matching his. "A few stitches, and I'll be as good as new. I'd rather talk to Brass now, than to wait till later."

Gil lifted his eyes to where Jim stood, watching, across the lobby, then turned his attention back to Sara. "Tell me what happened, I'll tell Jim later. We…we've got the man that…stabbed…you. It's not imperative that you give your statement right now." His hand tightened on hers, "We have time."

She nodded, but her breath came out in a long sigh, "It wasn't Nick's fault, Grissom."

"He should have been there." Now his voice came out as a growl, low and quiet…but as dangerous as a panther. "He had no business in the car…it was parked 200 feet away! Between that, and the officer leaving the scene…Sara, you could have been killed! And I…"

She waited, but he didn't finish his thought. He simply sat, staring straight ahead, his breath coming in uneven gasps. While he spoke, and even as he avoided her gaze, his fingers still gently stroked her hand. She sighed when he remained silent after several more minutes. Before she could question him further, about what he had left unsaid, her name was called.

She rose to follow the nurse back to the examining rooms, her eyes on their joined hands until her distance forced him to let go.

"I'll wait…"

"You don't have to, Grissom."

"I'll wait, Sara."

In the end, Sara needed more than 'just a few stitches'. The suspect, still hiding in a closet in the back of the suburban church where Nick and Sara had been investigating a murder, had missed her artery when he lunged at her. But his knife had torn into the muscle of her upper arm, almost severing some of the tissue straight to the bone. She'd needed rather delicate surgery to repair the damage so she would have full use of her arm again.

"Mr. Grissom?" Gil's head shot up as the nurse came into the waiting room, he was on his feet, striding away from where Brass, and now Catherine sat ignoring his stony silence. "You can see her now. She came through the surgery just fine. She's awake and asking for you."

For the first time since he'd gotten he call from Nick that Sara had been hurt, he smiled. Catherine and Brass exchanged amused looks at the brightness of that expression. "Go ahead Gil," Brass's chuckle followed Grissom's retreating back. "We'll wait for you here."

"Sara?" He crossed to the bed, reaching a tentative hand out, and then pulling it back just as slowly.

"Grissom…" Sara's eyes opened slowly, the fingers of her good hand reaching toward his, slowing his retreat. After a moment his hand met hers, enclosing it once again in his warmth. "You look terrible…"

He laughed at that, "It's me that's supposed to be worrying about you right now, Sara. That's how it works."

"Bet you look worse than me." She didn't try to shrug this time, just gave him a quick hint of the 'Sara smile' he so loved. "You should get some sleep."

"Not leaving you," both his hands now enclosed hers, "Never again." He smiled as she blinked, staring up at him in confusion. One hand left hers and stole up to her face, his fingers sliding gently over her cheek. "Never again, Sara," his thumb brushed over her lips, "If you'll…let me stay."

She turned her head, pressing a soft kiss in the palm of his hand. "You're tired. And scared. You need sleep, and…and to think. And if…if you still feel this way after some rest…I'll let you stay forever." She met his determined blue eyes, hope lighting his hers.

He nodded, brushing his fingers over her lips again, "You need to be sure. I…I do understand Sara." He leaned forward, his lips replacing his fingers on her cheek. I will be back."

Sara smiled. **"Go home, Grissom."**


End file.
